


ticking like a timebomb

by geckointhegarbage



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, American Football, Enemies to Lovers, Football, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, becki and lilly helped me make this au uwu, bitch, inspired by one of leggylance's posts, keith is pre-med ye haw, lance is pre-law, mmmmmmmm, tHANK U, yes the title is from a walk the moon song what about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 13:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19442689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckointhegarbage/pseuds/geckointhegarbage
Summary: AHHH IM BACK BITCHES !!!!special thank u to my fellow Klance Sluts @kiisaes (insta and tumblr) and @malia_scribbles (insta) for helping me develop this au! this is inspired by a post by leggylance, so a thank you to them as well !!





	ticking like a timebomb

**Author's Note:**

> AHHH IM BACK BITCHES !!!!  
> special thank u to my fellow Klance Sluts @kiisaes (insta and tumblr) and @malia_scribbles (insta) for helping me develop this au! this is inspired by a post by leggylance, so a thank you to them as well !!

“Honestly? I’m so done with Kogane! He’s such an arrogant asshole, on and off the field.”

Hunk just rolls his eyes at Lance’s rambling, pulling on his street clothes. At this point, he’s tuned Lance out fully, but Lance doesn’t seem to care. 

“I swear to god, if he even  _ looks  _ in my direction I’m going to punch his goddamn nose.” Lance ruffles his hair to make sure it keeps the I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-and-my-hair-looks-this-good look.

“God, he sometimes makes me want to slam him against a wall and-”

Hunk’s eyes widen quickly as he sees who’s standing behind Lance. Lance notices his friend’s sudden change in expression until it is way too late. Lance whips around only to be met with the smirking face of none other than Keith Kogane, his sworn rival, enemy #1, and the rival school’s football captain. 

Keith has already changed into his street clothes: an Adidas black hoodie with ripped blue jeans and Converse. His arms are crossed in front of his chest as he smirks at Lance, his jet-black bangs tickling his nose. 

“Go ahead, continue. I want to see where this is going.” Keith widens his grin. 

Lance watches a strand of hair fall out of Keith’s ponytail. “I-I, um…,” Lance trails off, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.  _ Why is it suddenly so hot in here? _

“Yeah?” Keith teases. “You what?”

“It’s none of your business, Kogane,” Lance says in a small voice. 

Keith leans closer to Lance’s face.  _ Did someone turn on the heater? It’s the middle of October!  _

“You were talking about me, weren’t you, McClain?” Keith winks. 

“No…,” Lance opens and closes his fists nervously. 

Keith shrugs. “Sure you weren’t. See you on the field next Friday. Can’t wait for you to tackle me.” With that, Keith pulls himself away from Lance’s personal bubble. 

Lance gulps. “See-hnnn-see you next Friday.”

Lance can hear Keith snicker as he walks towards his backpack and out the door. As soon as Keith disappears from his vision, Lance facepalms himself. 

“Did I just  _ honk  _ like a fucking  _ goose _ ?!” Lance shrieks to Hunk, who has now finished changing. 

Hunk chuckles nervously. “It was more like a swan if that helps?”

Lance groans and slams his locker door. “Thanks Hunk,” he mumbles. “Keith is just  _ so cool _ , you know? When he plays it’s like...it’s like he really knows what he’s doing. He has command of the field, command of the team. He knows that he’s on that field to win, and he gets there every time.” Lance sighs. “I wish I could be more like him.”

Hunk smiles warmly at his friend. “You’re a really good player too, buddy. Keith just plays a little differently than you. You’re both captains of the best football teams in the state and you both have 4.0 GPAs. You’re both on an equal playing field.”

Lance sighs and grabs his bag from the floor. “Yeah, I guess.”

Hunk pats him on the back. “Don’t worry about it, okay? What you should be worrying about is how Pidge is going to freak out once you tell her how much dirt you ate on the field today.”

The locker beside Lance’s head bursts open to reveal Pidge’s glasses. “Don’t worry, she already knows. And she is fucking  _ bonkers _ .”

* * *

The following Friday marked the most important football game of the season: finals. The game is pre-determined to be Mamora High vs. Voltron High, Keith and Lance’s schools respectively. Both highschools have been preparing all week with vigorous training schedules and intense workouts. Lance can barely feel his arms by the time Thursday comes around, but he sucks it up to run another mile as Pidge zooms by in her golf cart. 

Lance’s shirt clings to his back as the California sun beats down on him. Sweat drips from his brow and he takes a quick walk break to wipe it away. Cars zoom by him on his right and the uneven sidewalk doesn’t help his fatigue. Lance continues to speed walk his way up the hill, Hunk jogging past him and flashing him a sympathetic smile. 

Lance lets his head hang from his shoulders as he gets to the top of the hill. There, the sidewalk ends and opens up onto a gravel pathway that winds up another hill to a park. He will turn around there and run back to the school: another 2 miles. The sun only gets hotter at the acropolis of the steep hill; there is no shade from trees here. 

Lance sucks in a breath and is about to start running again when a sleek black Audi pulls up next to him. Lance almost starts sprinting because  _ no way in hell am I getting kidnapped a day before beating Keith’s ass, _ when none other than Keith Kogane himself lowers the window of the car. “Mine” by Bazzi streams out of the open window as Keith smiles at Lance. Keith is wearing a black shirt with a thin golden chain around his neck and black Ray-Bans adorning his face. Lance’s heart is already beating fast because of the running. He didn’t need Keith’s cool guy energy to increase it as well. 

“Hey McClain,” Keith muses. “Having fun on your run?”

Lance juts out his lower lip and crosses his arms. “Shut up, Kogane. Keep driving.”

“Nah, thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

Lance starts walking forward but Keith just follows him in his car. 

“Well, you’ve said hello. You can leave me alone now.”

Lance starts to jog but underestimates the terrain. His left foot catches on a large rock jutting out of the rocky ground and he falls almost on his face, scraping his elbows and his knees. 

“Shit,” he curses, trying to bring himself up on all fours. His arms shake when he moves them and his knees burn. He doesn’t even hear the car door slam and Keith jogging to his side. 

“Need help?” Keith asks him, his eyebrows furrowed. He offers Lance a hand.

Lance squints up at him, the bright sun messing with his vision. After a moment of hesitation, Lance takes Keith’s hand. It’s surprisingly smooth and soft for an athlete. But Lance doesn’t have too long to think about that though, as Keith starts to pull Lance upright. And  _ goddamn  _ is Keith strong. Lance knows he’s a football player, a linebacker at that, and he should’ve expected Keith to be quite muscular. But Lance definitely didn’t expect to be caught this off-guard by him. 

Lance stumbles to his feet the new cuts on his knees stinging as he bends them. “Thanks,” Lance mumbles, avoiding Keith’s eyes. Unfortunately, that gives Lance a better view of Keith’s outfit, which happens to be a black crop top and gray sweatpants. Good thing Lance is already red from the heat. 

“That was a pretty nasty fall,” Keith says. “Do you want me to take a look at your cuts? I have some bandages in my car, and you look like you need ‘em.”

Lance’s eyes flick between the long, winding path before him and the sleek, air-conditioned car beside him. “Yeah,” Lance gives in. “If you don’t mind.”

Keith smiles warmly at him. “Of course.” He pulls open the driver’s side door and helps Lance hops to the seat. Lance’s legs dangle outside of the car as Keith walks around to the other side to get some gauze and bandages from the glove box. 

Lance examines his wounds while he waits for Keith. Both of his hands are scraped up and little droplets of blood ooze from in between pieces of gravel. His elbows have large cuts on them and they sting greatly if Lance tries to unbend them. By far, his knees look the worst. Lance can’t even tell how bad the cuts are because red smears over them. A dribble of it is starting to run down his leg too. 

Keith comes around shortly with a few packets of gauze, alcohol pads, and tissues in one hand and a water bottle in the other. He kneels down in front of Lance and wordlessly opens the water bottle and wets a tissue. He doesn’t give Lance any warning when he presses the wet paper to his knee and Lance hisses and flinches. 

“Stay still, will you?” Keith mumbles, adjusting his feet underneath him. He gives Lance an eye roll before pressing the tissue to his knee again. Lance bites down on his lip but doesn’t flinch. Keith continues to press the wet tissue to Lance’s knee, regularly grabbing a new one out of the travel pack on the dashboard. Silently, Keith mops up the blood on both of Lance’s knees to reveal five large cuts: two on his left knee and three on his right. 

“I’m gonna clean them with the alcohol pads now, alright? Try and stay still, it’s going to sting a bit.”

Lance nods and bites his lip again. As soon as the pad touches his skin, however, his hand darts forward and clasps onto Keith’s shoulder, gently squeezing as Keith meticulously cleans the wound. 

“Sorry,” Lance apologizes after Keith finishes with his right knee. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Surprisingly, normally stoic, loner, if-you-even-come-near-me-I’ll-stomp-you-with-my-hooves, Keith just gives Lance a small smile. “It’s okay,” he says. “If it helps, you can do that again while I clean this one.”

Lance gives Keith a sheepish smile before he starts to clean the cut again and Lance’s hand clasps onto Keith’s shoulder. 

“How do you-,” Lance groans for a second, a sudden wash of pain coming over him, “How do you know how to do all of this stuff?”

“I’m pre-med,” Keith answers simply. “Probably should know this stuff if I want to be a doctor, right?”

“Oh,” Lance replies dumbly. “That’s pretty cool?”

“I guess,” is all Keith says back, finishing up Lance’s knees and putting the used wipes into the empty plastic tissue container. He stands up for a moment to stretch his legs and arms, his already short crop top riding up even higher on his torso. Keith adjusts his Ray-Bans too, opting for letting them sit on his head instead of over his eyes like they were before. 

“So,” Keith says awkwardly as he motions for Lance to bend his elbow so he can examine it. “What about you?”

Lance winces as a cool alcohol pad makes contact with his skin. “What about me?”

“Any college plans? Career plans?”

Lance pulls his arm away from Keith’s grasp. Keith flinches in surprise. “Why do you care?”

“Jeez, can a guy just ask another guy what he wants to do after high school?” Keith snaps back, taking Lance’s scraped up elbow in his hands again. He resumes cleaning up the blood, every so often giving Lance the stink eye. 

Lance sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters. Keith just shrugs in response and continues to spread Neosporin over the cuts. “Lawyer, by the way.” But Keith doesn’t reply, too absorbed in his work.

Keith works in silence for a few minutes, fully concentrated in his work. The pile of paper wrappings and used wipes begins to stack up as Keith works to make sure each cut is perfectly clean before gently spreading medicated lotion over the wound with his thumb and smoothing over a thick sheet of gauze, securing it with medical tape. 

Lance watches Keith work in awe. He never knew Keith to be so passionate about something,  _ anything _ really, besides football. Medicine was definitely not one of the top contenders of fields he would think a really buff, grizzled, hot guy like Keith would want to go into. Lance freezes. Wait, did he just think-

“All done,” Keith says from in between Lance’s legs. 

Lance zones back in from his thoughts and gives Keith a small smile as he stands up in front of him. “The bleeding went down a ton as I was cleaning them, but I’d change the gauze every evening just to make sure the wounds get some time to breathe and don’t get infected. Put Neosporin on them too, when you change the gauze,” Keith explains. 

“Thank you,” Lance smiles at him. “You really didn’t have to go through all that trouble.”

Keith shakes his head while he rubs the back of his neck. “It...it wasn’t anything. Really. I’d do that for anyone.”

“Thanks anyway,” Lance replies softly. He stands up from the seat, his cuts burning as he unbends his knees. Before he can walk past Keith to the path, Keith presses a hand to his chest. 

Lance looks at Keith, puzzled. Keith averts his eyes as he speaks. “Why don’t you, um- why don’t I just give you a ride back to the school?”

Lance’s eyes widen in shock. “Are you sure? I think I’ve already taken up enough of your time, uh. I don’t want to inconvenience you further or anything-”

Keith just shakes his head. “I’m sure. It’s no problem, really.”

Keith’s hand slides down Lance’s chest as Lance slowly nods in agreement. “Okay.”

It takes Lance all of his self-control to keep himself from smiling as they both take their seats in the car. As soon as the driver’s side door closes, Keith’s music that was playing earlier fills the car.

Neither of them knew what it was. Was it “Mine” still playing in the car? Was it the lingering tension between the two that had been there since freshman year? Was it Keith absentmindedly reaching for something in the passenger seat and accidentally pressing his hand onto Lance’s thigh? Was it, while Keith was hysterically apologizing, Lance simply taking Keith’s hand in his? Or was it Keith, his eyes trained on Lance’s lips, slowly leaning in after they pulled into a McDonald’s parking lot?

Neither of them knew what it was. It didn’t really matter, in the end. Because in the end, Lance is in Keith’s lap, his hands tangled in Keith’s long black hair. The seat is slowly reclining as Lance presses his lips feverishly to Keith’s, Lance’s long lashes tickling Keith’s cheeks. 

Eventually, they both had to come up for air. Lance pulls away with a  _ pop _ , gasping for air as he gazes down at Keith below him. Keith is panting, his face flushed pink, his lips red and raw. The ponytail his hair was in has long been destroyed, a halo of black hair framing his face. It doesn’t take long for Keith to recover the hands he had on Lance’s back and behind his neck pressing him back down again. This time, Keith starts to kiss at Lance’s neck, the skin reddening before his eyes. 

Keith starts to press kisses along Lance’s jaw when Lance giggles. “What? That ticklish or someth’ng?” he whispers against Lance’s jaw. 

“Nah,” Lance says above him. “I just realized, that I got to tackle you.”

Keith stops, stunned. He pulls away, his head hitting the seat again as he looks into Lance’s eyes. 

“And ‘m glad you did,” Keith says fiercely, before catching Lance’s lips in his again. 

**Author's Note:**

> anyway uhhh mom dont kill me
> 
> i hope u enjoyed!! i might add on to this later ;) but i wouldn't bet on it knowing me lmao
> 
> instagram: @blue._.cadet  
> art instagram: @88._.20  
> tumblr: geckointhegarbage.tumblr.com  
> art tumblr: 88-20.tumblr.com


End file.
